Monday Song

I wake up pale
unstuck but still
I take up residence
in this koleidescope of nails.
Raped hillsides and dip-dyed skies
make all the difference.

I put my favorite finger on play
and add it to the thousandth mental mix-tape
I've made for you today.
One more tear slides through
alabaster haze
and one more time I say..
"It's not you"
Even if it feels that way.

And I mean it with all the color left in my eyes
I love the unfrozen photographs
that I'm scared to live in someday.

It's not the one before you-
before September-
there's scarcely sand from last December
It runs much deeper than all that.

I'm holding onto
afternoons in sheets
with my cold feet on you

And I embrace
every trace of concern
that plays on your face
when I blink too hard
and face the other way.
But tomorrow is always only hours away-
so I'm okay.

I swear it's not you...
Even if it feels that way.